


You Belong With Me (Baby Can’t You See)

by jormaperalta



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: (always), A bit loose, Badass shopping spree, Badass!Rosa, Bitchy!Sophia, F/M, Football Jock!Terry, Multi, Nerdy!Amy, Office Aid!Gina, Prom, Soccer Jock!Jake, because i don't understand cop things, but inspired by that song, high school!au, i'm probably forgetting a ton of stuff, no Hitchcock and Scully, teddy is mentioned briefly, you belong with me!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6863947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jormaperalta/pseuds/jormaperalta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerdy Amy Santiago has had a longtime crush on her close friend and neighbor, popular Jake Peralta. Unfortunately for her, he’s been dating the popular, pretty and somewhat bitchy Sophia Perez since their junior year.</p><p>Now a senior, she doesn’t want to go off to college without him knowing she feels about him, so she works with her best friends Rosa, Charles, and Gina decide to give her a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Belong With Me (Baby Can’t You See)

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely inspired by Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me.” (I changed the sport from football to soccer because this is set during prom season and also the idea of Jake Peralta playing football made me laugh too hard). I also did not know how to write Hitchcock and Scully into this, so they are omitted. Oops.

If you were to ask Amy Santiago when she fell for her close friend Jake Peralta, it would make her frustrated that she can’t name a specific time and date.

Amy is a very organized person. In fact, she’s in the running for senior superlative of “Most Organized,” spearheaded by her and Eddie Fung. Before, that wasn’t even on the list. She’s making history.

But back to Jake.

Jake and her have been close friends since they were seven. Her family moved into the house next to his, and her room looks right into his. He was mostly friends with her brothers, but when she befriended Rosa Diaz, a girl on their street, she somehow managed to become friends with him too. And soon, they became best friends.

They even have this special way of communication just for them. Before they had cell phones, they each had whiteboards with erasable markers and they would talk to each other using notes on the boards since they couldn’t use the home phones. (Jake’s mom was constantly going on dates and talking to them when his dad left and Amy’s brothers and parents always had control of the phone and seniority over her, since she was the youngest.) But this arranged worked for them, and it always has.

But before the whiteboards, they just used sketchpads with giant thick permanent markers. They soon found whiteboards worked easier, so they started using those when they were ten. They text as well, now that they have iPhones, but when they’re both in their rooms, that’s how they communicate.

Their dynamic has always been the same. Amy was and always will be the teacher’s pet and overachieving straight-A student while Jake was and always will be the popular, slacker jock who’s friends with anybody and everybody.

She never really worried about dating and dates throughout middle school and the first two years of high school. She either had to study instead, so the only times she would leave her house were for school or for when Jake would make her join him on wacky adventures with their friends. Most of them were fun, but she still made him study for their classes together.

Now seventeen, things have changed slightly. Jake has been dating Sophia Perez since their junior year Prom. That’s almost a year, and they seem to be going strong.

Because, of course they are. Sophia is one of the most attractive people in their school. She’s head cheerleader, Jake is captain of the soccer team (which is almost as big as football at their school). They’re both insanely attractive and popular and socially competent.

And Amy isn’t any of those things. She has her “granny glasses” like Jake and everyone else calls them and she plays french horn in the school’s marching band and she’s pimply and tall for a girl and insanely awkward.

When she realizes that she has a crush on Jake, and subsequently realizes that she has since before he and Sophia even met each other (time and date still out on jury), she immediately sighs in shame.

Because it doesn’t even matter.

There’s no way someone like Jake would ever be into someone like her.

+

Amy is studying for an AP test she has coming up late Thursday night in matching plaid pajamas. Even though she’s trying to get used to the idea of contacts, she’s afraid of falling asleep with them in, so she’s wearing her granny glasses and taking notes because she wants to get a five out of five on her history exam.

She’s already been accepted early decision into Columbia University to study Art History and Forensics, but she wants to end this year with a bang.

Speaking of a bang, she jumps when she hears Jake slam his door shut to his room, _from her room with her window closed_. She looks over at him, and he’s still wearing his soccer uniform that’s dirtied with mud and grass stains. He’s on the phone and he looks pissed as he talks into it. He looks like he’s defending himself, but at the same time being accusatory. He looks sad and angry, and normally Jake is happy and bright.

Frowning, Amy sets her prep book aside and grabs her white board. In thick cursive in bright red marker, she writes:

_You ok?_

She waits until Jake is off the phone to hold it out so he can see. His fingers are running through his hair, but he stops to look at her note and she watches as he reads.

He smiles sadly as he sits on his bed and grabs his own whiteboard. In his blocky, blue-colored print, he writes:

 _Just sick of the drama_.

He holds it with one hand, and his lips are pursed to the side. And for once, she’s not reading him well. But for some reason, she knows that Sophia is to blame.

Amy quickly erases her previous note, and writes back:

_Sorry:(_

She’s not sure what she expected him to write back, but he doesn’t write anything just shrugs.

If Sophia is to blame, maybe they’re breaking up. Lightened with that thought, she erases the slightly-insincere _Sorry:(_ and replaces it with a completely sincere _I love you_.

Because she does, even though he’s practically her total opposite. She loves his smile, his laugh, his inability to to focus in class but pay attention when she helps him with work, his friendship-making ability, his love for his mom, the way he makes her laugh even when she’s about to cry, and the way he’s always been there for her, even though it’s a bit less this past year.

Maybe love isn’t similar social statuses, or the shared ability to read erlenmeyer flasks. You need a balance, and maybe he’s wacky and she’s uptight and he’s a jock and she’s a nerd but they belong together.

And she’s sick of pretending that they don’t.

But when she looks up and the note is ready to be read and revealed, Jake’s curtain is drawn closed, and her heart oddly breaks.

And then she feels awful.

So what if she has feelings for Jake? She’s supposed to be a good friend for him, and he’s having relationship struggles. With a sad sigh, she erases the note (with a bit more force than necessary) and decides she needs to dance it out.

Amy Santiago is not a good dancer, but she loves music, and Gina makes her dance with her because Rosa straight-up refuses and Charles is a _weird_ dancer, not just bad. So, she usually only dances when Gina makes her when they’re all hanging out, but she needs to move around and stretch her muscles, and it’s almost midnight so she can’t wake up her family by going outside for a walk, plus it’s dangerous and she’s not a cop yet.

Keeping her music low enough for just her to hear it, she dances. Poorly. But who cares, Jake is asleep and his curtain is still drawn. So she tries to dance her feelings away.

Sadly, it doesn’t work. So it’s back to hiding it.

+

The next morning, she’s sitting on the park bench outside her house to wait for the bus. She’s re-reading _Frankenstein_ for her AP Lit class, since they’re supposed to be having a Socratic discussion on it today.

The bus isn’t going to arrive until 7:15, but she’s already out there and waiting at 7, because she doesn’t have a car. Rosa does, but Rosa texted her last night that it had to get it’s oil changed yesterday and wouldn’t be able to be picked up until this afternoon, so they were forced to the bus.

“Hey, Santiago!” Jake’s voice surprises her from her reading. Clad in a white button-down, a sloppy tie and surprisingly nice jeans, her crush walks out of his house carrying a light-looking backpack and a heavy sports duffle, probably filled with soccer paraphernalia. Whenever there's a big game, the jocks have to dress up in nice attire. And it certainly doesn't help her crush on him at all. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Amy asks, pushing her glasses to a better position which had fallen slightly from the perfect perch on her nose. Then she puts a bookmark into the book to remember her place.

“Oh um... Sophia’s giving me a ride, but I saw you sitting out here, and figured I’m better company than a dumb-ass book,” Jake says, dropping his stuff beside him. She rolls her eyes at that. “Where’s Rosa? Don’t you normally drive with her?”

That started when Jake and Sophia started dating. She used to ride with Jake, but since Sophia’s stuff would be all over the car, she eventually told him that his car smelled like old cheese and had too many pigeon feathers in it and begged Rosa to drive her.

“Yeah, her car’s getting fixed so we’re relegated to the bus today. Like freshmen,” She says with a smile, but then says, “I thought you typically drove with Charles and Gina.” Charles and Gina are step-siblings that live on the way to school. They kissed once back in middle school, but no one is allowed to talk about it ever, even though it was before their parents even met. Ignoring that, Jake usually drove them because he’s always been close with them, and if they drove alone they would probably kill each other.

“Sophia and I had a little fight last night,” Jake rubs the back of his neck, so Amy’s fairly certain it wasn’t that little. “And we decided she’d pick me up to get coffee before classes, y’know, to make up.”

“That’s fun,” Amy tries to say with enthusiasm. Time to change the subject slightly. “The big game is coming up, isn’t it?”

“Today, day before prom, 7pm,” Jake confirms confidently, even though he kind of rambled.

“Shouldn’t you be dressed up?” Amy asks, eyeing his jeans. Shit. She just looked at his _legs_. What could he construe that as?

“I’m wearing a tie, that’s all that matters,” Jake says with a smirk, making her smile. “Will you be marching along tonight?” He mimes playing the French Horn.

“Of course, Holt would never forgive me if I didn’t show up.” Mr. Holt is the school’s best English teacher and the sponsor of marching band. Lots of students (mostly Jake) think he’s boring, but he wrote her college recommendations, so she’ll be forever grateful to him.

“Yeah, you can’t stand to piss off Holt, right?”

Amy doesn’t bother to dignify that with a response, which causes Jake to laugh which causes her to laugh and suddenly they’re giggling like idiots at nothing, really.

“So, hey, who are you doing to the dance with?” Jake asks, tapping his fingers on his thighs. She’s used to him being fidgety, so she barely pays attention to it. But she thinks the beat is some Taylor Swift song.

Oh right, the prom. She was asked by Teddy Wells, a guy in her AP Bio class, but she doesn’t have any spark with him, so she turned him down. It’d be stupid to say she was waiting for Jake to ask her, but she kind of is. Even though he has a girlfriend and it's the day before.

“Oh, um, actually-”

Amy’s cut off by the sound of a car coming to a stop. Looking up from her lap, where her gaze had averted itself, she sees Sophia.

Sophia looks a bit confused at the scene before her. “Hey, Jacob. Oh, _hey_ Jamie!”

“Amy,” Amy corrects like always, but shyly. She’d probably have more confidence, but Jake stopped correcting her ages ago.

“Ready to go, babe?” Sophia says to Jake. She’s wearing her cheerleader outfit, like people have forgotten she’s head cheerleader and they need the reminder. The posters that constantly decorate the school make sure that people never forget, it’s like brainwashing.

“Yeah sure,” Jake stands and turns to Amy. “Oh...” He looks like he’s about to ask her something. Like maybe offer her a ride too.

But then he doesn’t. He gets into the car, and then Sophia leans over, grabs his head, and makes out with him.

Heavily.

Amy averts her gaze, because she doesn’t need to see that, and then Sophia drives off with Jake in tow.

She pulls out her book and waits for the bus to show up, and it’s a bit late. But that’s okay. She boards and goes to sit a few rows from the front when she remembers Rosa is supposed to join her.

“Oh, sir! There’s one more person, she’s a bit-” Amy starts to say but then the bus driver pointedly shuts the door. But then there’s a loud smack against the metal of the bus and he throws open the door in surprise.

Clad in all black and partial leather, Rosa Diaz enters the bus doors. The bus driver, obviously not knowing who he is dealing with, says, “Next time, please be prompt.”

Rosa tips her shades a bit and gives him a harsh yet casual glare, like he’s something she found on her shoe, “Next time, fuck off.” And then she sits down next to Amy.

“I hate the bus,” Rosa says, sitting casually while Amy’s posture is perfect.

“I see that,” Amy says, teasingly. Rosa elbows her, and Amy elbows her back.

+

Throughout the first half of the school day, Amy barely sees her friends. She does see Jake in a few classes, but since she’s a bit mad at him due to his behavior this morning, she tries not to stare at him. (Well, as much as usual.)

All of her friends (and Sophia) have lunch at the same time, so they’re sitting in the cafeteria. Charles is eating something that both looks somewhat decent but smells revolting. Gina is picking apart cafeteria food without eating it. Rosa is drinking from a Monster Energy, Terry has a full grocery bag of food that reminds her of that scene in _The Breakfast Club_ and Amy is carefully eating her well-portioned food optimized for nutrition.

So basically it’s like any other day.

Except all the prom talk.

“So, I’m thinking of wearing of a navy blue dress that’s made of pure satin because my psychic says that color will get me laid,” Gina says, throwing a piece of salami at a freshman, “And _then_ she said that the shoes didn’t matter, but she suddenly texts me that I need to go to the mall and buy gold pumps.”

“Doesn’t your psychic work at the shoe store in the mall?” Amy asks, mulling it over.

“Your point, Amalia?” Gina says. Ever since Gina became an office aid, all she does is lord over all the information she shouldn’t know but does. Like Amy’s full name, or Charles’s SAT score.

“Maybe she wants you to buy shoes for commission, dumbass,” Rosa says.

Gina scoffs, “Charlene is as spiritual as they come, Ms. Suspended-in-Grade-Four.” Rosa rolls her eyes at that.

“Sure, Gina,” Terry says, ever the pacifist.

“Plus, we need to go shopping for Amy’s dress,” Charles says out of nowhere, “If we’re going to the mall and all.”

Amy’s back straightens even tighter if that’s possible. “What-”

“Yeah, we don’t know who your date is,” Rosa says.

“Since when do you care?” Amy stammers.

“Because someone like you would already be talking about it,” Rosa says.

“And have five different options,” Gina says. “All ugly, but still.”

“And have an itinerary for the entire night,” Charles says, but it’s not at all as malicious as Gina’s tone.

“Plus a date,” Terry adds.

“Yeah, we don’t even know who you’re taking!” Charles gasps, purely aghast, even though Rosa already said that.

Amy is absolutely flushed red at all the attention. “Well, um, guys-”

Suddenly they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind her. Amy judges the reactions of her friends before turning around.

Gina looks up from her phone. Charles gasps, audibly. Terry drops an apple slice. Rosa raises an eyebrow.

Amy gulps before she turns around, because those astounding reactions can only mean one thing.

It’s Jake.

His tie is loosened slightly, and his hair is more mussed than usual. Had he been making out with Sophia? Her heart sinks.

“Hey guys,” Jake greets, somewhat awkwardly. “Can I join you?”

None of them say anything for a moment. But then Charles goes to speak up, and Amy can actually hear Rosa kick Charles in the shin, effectively shutting him up.

“Hey, Peralta,” Rosa greets, somewhat casually. “‘S been a while.”

Jake opens his mouth to speak, but Gina talks over any effort he could make to talk, “Shouldn’t you be sitting at the jock table, Mr. Slept-with-a-Teacher?”

Jake (and Amy) gasp, “Hey, I never slept with a teacher.” He doesn’t sound furious, just confused.

Gina cocks her head, “Oh really? That’s not what I slipped into your file.”

Amy purses her lips, and Jake actually laughs. “Can I join you guys?” He asks again, undeterred.

“Sure,” Terry says, though Rosa, Amy, and Gina and even Terry a bit look apprehensive as Jake sits down.

“I don’t recall you answering my question, Jakey,” Gina continues, setting her phone on the table. “You haven’t sat with us since last semester.”

Jake winces, “I’m really sorry about that. It’s just... this game is kind of a big deal, and all the guys on the team are talking about it, and it’s stressing me out.”

“I get that, man,” Terry says. He was the captain of the football team since _freshman year_ , and the other seasons he just writes poetry and dates his girlfriend and defends typical bully-targets from getting bullied. “You just need a break.”

“Exactly!” Jake says, smiling at them.

“With your real friends,” Terry says, giving Jake a look.

And everything kind of stutters in the conversation, and Amy has to bite back a smile. She loves Terry, in the most platonic way.

“I’ve been a dick, and I’m sorry. Do you guys forgive me?”

Amy looks over at Rosa, who is looking back at her. She doesn’t see what the others do, but then Rosa nods at her ever so slightly. Then she realizes everyone is looking at her.

Jesus. Is it because her crush on him is horribly obvious, or because she used to be the closest to Jake?

She exhales anyway and turns to him. “You’re forgiven.”

And Jake beams.

+

On the bus ride home, Amy is sitting with Rosa again, who looks just as pissed off about being stuck in this position as she did this morning.

“So you got out of it earlier, and I’m pissed because I’m still fuckin’ thinking about it, but who are you going to the dance with? Didn’t that science nerd ask you out?” Rosa asks.

Amy sighs. She was so close to avoiding this subject. “I was asked, yes, but I- I turned him down.” Teddy Wells is a decent guy, but there wasn't a spark.

“Good, he looked boring,” Rosa crosses her arms and stares straight out the window.

“He was perfectly nice-” Amy goes to speak.

“Boring,” Rosa says, somehow definitively and with no tone. Amy does not admit she’s right. “So who are you going with instead?”

“I’m not going,” Amy finally admits out loud to someone other than herself or her insistent parents or her bothersome brothers.

Rosa gives her a look, “What the fuck, Santiago? It’s our senior prom.” Which is basically what her parents tell her, without the swearing.

“I have studying to do.” Which is her responding answer to her parents too.

“Bullshit,” Rosa says. “You’re already into Columbia and you have a 4.0 GPA. You just don’t want to see Peralta and that skank get crowned Most Popular tonight.”

Amy winces, “Is my crush that obvious?” She says it quietly enough that any cheerleaders on the team who take the bus won’t hear.

“To everyone except Peralta, and unfortunately that includes his girlfriend,” Rosa doesn’t bullshit, and she appreciates it. At least she keeps her volume down too.

“But you should still go. _You_ deserve a break too, and if anything gets bad, I’ll drive you home.”

That’s probably the nicest thing Rosa Diaz has ever said to her, and it almost makes her acquiesce and agree to go to the Prom.  

“I-I don’t have a dress, or shoes, or a ticket, but thanks. I’ll probably just stay home and study.”

Rosa just stares at her for a moment, and then says, “You’re a fucking nerd.”

“Thank you.”

+

Amy has no idea why her school has a full marching band and cheerleading squad for a soccer game. She knows it’s a big deal, but it’s not exactly football.

She doesn’t really get it with football either, which annoys her because she prides herself on understanding things and figuring out puzzles, but she long since tried to stop understanding sports culture. She’ll stick to science and the humanities.

Decked out in the bright blue marching band uniform and her glasses because contacts are hard, she watches the game play out.

It’s already past halftime, and they’re in the last half, and the score is tied 3-3, and Jake is star-forward. He’s sweaty and covered in mud and grass-stains and it nearly aches her to see how attractive he is like that. But she just focuses on the music.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks next to her. He plays the clarinet, but they’re on the edges of their respective instruments. They don't have to play again, but they're supposed to stand around for the rest of the game. She feels bad for the members of marching band with tubas and drums.

Amy nods, “Thanks for asking.”

He just smiles at her. Charles is such a sweetheart.

The game is heating up, and even though her eyes are mostly on Jake, she sometimes sees Sophia, who’s leading the squad with precision which annoys her. It’d be so much easier to hate her if she was a slob, but she takes her cheerleading captain job seriously (for some reason).

She forces her attention on Holt, even though they’re just standing around the bleachers at this point, so her eyes inevitably linger on Jake, who’s running around with intensity and concentration and focus and god she wants him to notice her so badly.

But he has a girlfriend, who’s cheering on the grass just near him, while she’s practically in another realm on the bleachers.

Suddenly, the crowd goes wild and Amy sees that another team member was able to get the ball and pass it Jake’s way and he’s taking off down the field.

She’s cheering before she knows what hits her, and everyone is shouting his name even before his foot connects with the soccer ball, and the ball goes careening into the goal. Just him and the defense team he did circles around.

Amy’s flooded with how proud she is of him. She’s known how hard he’s worked to be captain, and he’s deserved this moment. She’s jumping and grabbing onto Charles and she even sees Mr. Holt smile before going back to his stoic face.

+

Amy’s waiting for Charles to give her a ride home, because none of their other friends can. Gina hates sports, Friday night is date night for Terry and Sharon (so is every night practically, but she’d never ask them anyway, they'd make out the entire time) and Rosa never goes to school spirit events that had cheerleaders doing routines since she found them stupid and anti-feminist.

Charles is talking to a flute player, Amy thinks her name is Genevieve, and is waiting by his car. She’s used to this. Charles has had a crush on her for all of high school, and all they do is just talk after games. They’re even going to the same college next year (Johnson and Wales in Rhode Island), but they won’t even make a move on each other.

And yes, she sees the slight irony, with her awkwardness with Jake, but their situations are totally different. Genevieve may be a bit out of Charles’s league (like Jake is for her) but Genevieve clearly likes him back.

Amy’s texting her parents and keeping them updating on her wellbeing, when she hears someone approach on the gravel. “Done talking to Genevieve- oh hey, Jake.” Amy can’t stop the smile on her face when she sees him. He’s changed into his long-sleeved soccer shirt and out of the shin-guards, but otherwise he still looks like he played an amazing game of soccer. Which he did.

Oh, she should tell him that.

“Great job out there, that was amazing,” She tells him.

He smiles, “Thanks, Ames. Nice Frenching.”

She raises an eyebrow, but then Jake does his signature French Horn gesture again so she rolls her eyes and laughs.

“So-” They both go to say, but then Jake’s face falls and turns to stone cold anger.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He practically snaps, and Amy flinches. But then she realizes he’s not looking at her anymore, he’s looking behind her.

Up against her car is Sophia, and she’s making out with the goalie on their school’s team just the row parallel to them.

Amy’s jaw drops, and all of a sudden, it looks like everyone that’s still in the parking lot (a fair amount of people, considering the game ending ten minutes ago) goes from chatting to silent.

Jake walks over, seemingly calm, “What the hell, Sophia?”

Sophia just gives him a bitchy look and keeps draping herself over the soccer player, even though he looks a bit less sure of the fact he was making out with the hottest girl in school.

“This is _revenge_ , Jacob,” Sophia says haughtily. He’s turned away from her, but Amy can feel the disbelief radiating off of Jake.

“For what?” He practically shouts, sounding more confused than angry.

“You shouldn’t have ditched me at lunch to play with your nerdy neighbor!” Sophia points at her. And everyone (but Jake) is looking at her, and Amy wants to die. _Where the hell is Charles?_ “She’s pathetic! And you need to stay away from her-”

“This is low,” Jake says, and his voice is lethally low and steady but everyone can hear him. “Even for you. I- We’re done, Sophia.”

Everyone gasps. And she thinks that includes her.

Sophia _did not_ expect that and her jaw drops, “Jake-”

“Don’t even talk to me,” And with that, Jake leaves the parking lot, going to his car. His fingers are tugging through his hair and Amy wants to go after him, but she knows that Jake prefers to be alone when he’s angry.

Plus, Sophia is looking Amy in the eye, like a bull ready to charge, and Amy waits for an onslaught, but then there’s a presence beside her.

“Everything okay, Amy?” Charles asks, and the other spectators start to disperse.

“Yeah, can we just go? P-please?” Amy asks nervously, tearing her eyes away from Sophia, who’s hand is now on her jutted-out hip. But she’s not charging.

Charles nods and unlocks the door. And, unlike true Charles Boyle fashion, does not try to ask her what was going on as he drives her home

Which is when she first suspects that something’s up. But also knows that Rosa was right: everyone but Jake knows.

Even Charles does.

+

Amy normally gets up at 8 on Saturday mornings, because there’s usually so much to accomplish, but she’s woken up at 7:30 by her mom, who looks just as disheveled as Amy feels.

“Is everything okay?” Amy asks, because her mom hasn’t woken her up since elementary school. Amy has always been able to adhere to a strict time schedule.

“Your friends are downstairs,” Her mother says, yawning slightly. “They wanted to speak to you. They’re in the basement, because they are like a horde of elephants.”

Amy’s confused, but she nods and smiles at the description. “I’ll handle them, Mama.”

“You better, Amalia,” But her mom is smiling. She loves Amy’s friends, just not at early morning hours. She leaves the room.

Amy grabs her glasses and goes to throw her covers off but out of habit looks out her window.

Jake’s curtains are still drawn. When she got home last night, she was all ready to talk to him, or just let him talk, but the dark blue curtains are still closed off, blocking her from whatever’s going on with him. The only sign of life she gets it’s a general Facebook update:

 _Jake Peralta (Soccer Stud)_ is _single_.

She could just text him, and she reaches for her phone. But for some reason that feels off, and she trusts that feeling. So instead, she closes her own curtains and changes into something better than her slept-in pajamas, brushes her teeth, and quickly heads downstairs to the basement.

Rosa, Charles, Gina, and Terry are all sitting in her family’s movie room on the sofas (when you’re a family of 10, you need multiple sofas). They’re all dressed but look as tired as she is.

“What’s going on, you guys?” Amy asks, lifting her glasses to rub at her eyes.

“We’re getting you ready for prom,” Terry says, sending a slightly baleful look Gina’s way.

Gina simply brings her palms together elegantly and says, “It’s time to turn you from a pigeon to a swan.”

“Jesus, Gina,” Rosa rolls her eyes. “You woke her up at buttfuck in the morning, at least be nice about it.”

Gina huffs, and speaks like it pains her, “Rosa told us you weren’t going to prom because of clothing issues- which are most of your issues lesbereal- and we decided to help you out.”

Amy doesn’t answer for a second, but then turns to Rosa, “I thought of all the people in this room, _you_ wouldn’t say a word.” She practically accuses.

Rosa glares at her, but she’s almost smiling, “What can I say, Santiago? Riding the bus like a fucking freshman made me weak.”

Amy exhales and tries not to smile. “I- I don’t need to go to prom. I don’t even _want_ to go.”

“You mean you’d miss out on a cornerstone experience? What if it becomes necessary later in life?” Terry points out and Amy’s resolve weakens.

“Like when you’re a cop!” Charles points out enthusiastically. She raises an eyebrow at him.

Gina turns to Charles, “You’re much more useful when you’re silent, little mouse.”

Rosa huffs, “You don’t have to go tonight but you should at least be able to.”

“You need a dress, Amy,” Charles says emphatically, causing Gina to give up and go on her phone. “Where would Cinderella be without her transformation?”

“She had a fairy godmother and magic,” Amy points out.

“We are neither of those things,” Terry says and stands up valiantly, “But we are willing to try.”

Amy takes a deep breath, “I will go shopping, but that’s not a guarantee I’m going to prom.”

“Deal.”

They all stand and go to leave, but then Amy points out, “Why are you here so early? The mall doesn’t open until 9.”

Her friends make slightly ashamed faces, except for Rosa, who says, “We were hoping your mom would make breakfast.”

Amy smiles, “She probably already is. Let’s go up.”

+

After a huge breakfast, Amy is being dragged around a mall that’s not even the closest mall.

“Why this establishment?” Amy had asked as Rosa drove them all like she was racing someone.

“Because we’re the only school in the area having Prom tonight, Amalia,” Gina says, “And all the other losers who weren’t prepared are going to shop at the Sunset Mall. We need the Sunrise Mall.” When Amy looked over at the others, they all just shrugged as if to say _Let’s just go with it_.

The first place they hit up is actually on the way to the mall: Amy’s optometrist to get her prescription refilled because apparently hers were expired. Maybe that’s why she hated them. With the fresh contacts, her eyes feel much better. She misses the glasses, but she sees the appeal of contacts. 

They then go to Sephora, and get Amy some pink and red lipsticks, black eyeliner (hers had expired approximately two years ago) and more foundation that “doesn’t make her look like a Cuban ghost.” Okay, maybe her foundation was a few shades too light. But seriously, make up is _so_ expensive.

They go to Macy’s first for dresses since most of their stuff is inexpensive but all their dresses are insanely short. Amy probably could wear those, but Gina refuses, “ _Juniors_ wear short dresses, Amy. Juniors and whores and junior whores. You are not any of those things.”

It might be a compliment, but Amy doesn’t risk pointing it out.

They go to Nordstrom’s next and have much better luck finding longer dresses in her price range (best babysitter and office assistant on the block). Reluctantly, Amy agrees to let each of them pick two dresses and they go to the changing room.

The only rules are 1) No white dresses (“You’re not getting married you’re going to fucking prom” Gina insists). 2) No backless. (Because when Gina mentioned “nipple tape,” Amy vetoed it immediately.)

The first dresses are Charles’s choice, and they both look like something made from sofa or chair cushions in an old lady’s house. Granted, Amy actually finds them cute, but Rosa says, “This is prom, not Little House on the Prairie. Next.”

Rosa’s first dress is all black leather that takes Amy five whole minutes to put on. “Why did you think this would look good on me?” Amy asks her, voice a bit choked from the constricting fabric while standing in the display area within the changing room.

Rosa smirks, sprawled on the sofa, “I didn’t. Just wanted to see what it would look like.”

Amy just glares at her and goes back inside. Her next dress is all black but not leather and looks decent. It looks like she’s going to a funeral for someone she hates and wanted to one-up one last time with how sexy she is (both Rosa’s and Gina’s words surprisingly) so it goes in the maybe.

Terry’s dresses are nice, one in dark blue the other in silver, and they both go in the maybe. But one is strapless, which even Gina thinks are a bad idea (“strapless dresses are for the weak and small-breasted”) and the other has a very confusing series of straps that required assistance from Rosa _and_ Charles to get on and off. Even though it’s still unlikely she’ll go to the dance, she can’t imagine being able to put that dress on her body by herself.

Amy was only allowed to look at dresses after everybody else went through their options, so the next dresses are courtesy of Gina.

The first is a bedazzled, teal dress with a fair amount of ruffles and the other is a simple red dress with a couple of gems on it.

The teal one actually fits really well and pushes her boobs up, but the ruffles are a bit much.

“Oh Amy, you look like a mermaid,” Charles says, sighing.

“Try the other one, Charles ruined this one for me,” Gina says, shoving Amy back into the dressing room.

The red one causes them all to fall silent. Amy looks down at herself. She thought she looked good in the mirror, but their silence scares her. These are the loudest people she’s ever known, and she has _seven_ brothers.

“I- Is it okay?” Amy asks, pulling it down a little.

“It’s perfect,” Terry says, voice awed. Charles is already crying. Rosa just smiles at her.

And Gina says, “I’m a goddamn genius.”

+

On the drive home, Amy and her friends sit in silence. The only thing making noise is the car itself and some weird music Rosa is playing that’s still on low volume. Until Charles blurts out of nowhere, no preamble, “WHY IS JAKE BLIND TO THE FACT YOU TWO BELONG TOGETHER?!”

“Jesus Boyle!” Both Amy and Rosa shout in surprise, Rosa almost swerving them into another lane.

“Because Amy’s granny glasses and general attire and standoffish nerd attitude act as a repellent to the male gaze,” Gina says matter-of-factly, filing her nails.

Amy groans and hides her face in her hands, “All of you know I have a crush on Jake?”

They all speak at once, overlapping each other.

Rosa: “Yep.”

Charles: “Yes, and I love it.”

Terry: “Of _course_ Terry knew.”

Gina: “I put it in your file.”

Amy whips her head around and looks at Gina, “You put it in my _file_?”

“Where else am I supposed to put that information?”

“I- My god,” Amy resists the urge to throw herself out of the car and into traffic.

“If it makes you feel better, he likes you too,” Gina offers.

“He does?” Amy and Terry ask at the same time. Charles just gasps ecstatically and Rosa doesn't look surprised in the slightest. 

“Well he did last year. He told me while we were partying at my house that he wanted to ask you to junior prom but you were cramming for the SAT that day, and then that’s when Sophia asked him.”

Amy’s face falls. Wow. She had no idea. Nothing had seemed off with them back then...

“I doubt that you can call ‘getting drunk and watching _Project Runway_ with Jake and Jake only’ a party, Gina,” Rosa says.

“I don’t judge you,” Gina says haughtily.

“Yes you do.” They all say.

“That’s because I’m the Simon Cowell of gorgeous, young, American ladies,” Gina defends herself.

Amy rolls her eyes, but then she thinks back to last year.

Jake _did_ seem a bit weird before prom. And she had chalked it up to the fact there was the rival soccer game and also he was going to ask Sophia to prom. She had no idea _she_ asked _him_.

God, and she thought she was smart.

+

Unsurprisingly, they decide to get food and they don’t drop Amy off until 3pm. Prom is at 9pm.

Rosa pulls up in front of her own house, with the expectation being that Amy just walk herself over but then Rosa clears her throat, stopping Amy from walking away.

“I’m going stag,” Rosa tells her. “If you decide to go, we can dance or whatever. Or I drive you home and we break shit with my softball bats.”

Amy smiles at her, “You’re a great friend.”

“Shut up, no I’m not.”

Amy decides not to make her suffer, so she walks over to her house, carrying all the things she bought.

After telling her parents about her day (minus all the obscenities and crush stuff because she’d like to know that _some_ people aren’t aware of her infatuation with Jake), she goes up to her room and puts away all the clothes because the idea of the bags just laying around nearly gives her hives.

She looks outside the window out of habit and finds her curtains are still drawn. She did it herself, but it’s still a weird sight to behold, so she opens them.

Jake’s room is messy, as always, but he’s not in there.

A horrible part of Amy’s inner thoughts whispers “ _He’s probably making up with Sophia right now_ ” and “ _Probably making_ out _with her too_.”

Not sure how else to handle those feelings, she just goes back to studying, putting headphones in and listening to music, even though she normally studies in complete silence (or muted, bass-heavy music, when Jake decides to blare his speakers from next door.)

At around 5, she gets individual texts from her group.

Gina: Are you going to show the world what a beautiful pigeon turned Swan you are?

Rosa: don’t be a loser and bail tonight, but if you do, I understand.

Terry: Sharon and I respect your choices, but we want you to know we’d be glad to see you tonight.

Charles: AMY!! AMY!!! GENEVIEVE IS GOING TO THE PROM WITH ME!!!! *dozens of happy emojis*

She texts Gina back a “no, but thanks.” She sends Rosa a “Probably not, but we’ll see” text, because Rosa hates mystery when it’s not about her. Terry gets a “you’re the best, you two have fun tonight!” Charles gets a phone call, and he yells in her ear for a solid thirty seconds straight and makes her pick which color bowtie he should wear (she tells him instead to wear a normal tie, and he agrees that’s a good idea). She’s so happy for him.

None of them pressure her by inviting her out to dinner beforehand, so hours later she joins her parents to eat instead, wearing leggings and a t-shirt of the periodic table Jake got her for Hanukkah their freshman year that’s been worn and washed so many times it’s so soft and faded.

Speaking of Jake, when she gets back to her room, his curtains are open and he’s adjusting a clip-on bowtie (Jake Peralta would never be able to figure out a tie) and he’s looking at his mirror. He’s dressed to the nines (as he would say). Black slacks, white button-down without stains, the tie, and black shoes either Gina or his mom got him. He looks dapper and it makes her knees weak.

In doing so, he sees through the windows and looks back at her and smiles.

She sits on her bed as he grabs his whiteboard, so she does the same. When she looks up, he’s holding out, in the same blue, blocky lettering she’s always known.

_You going tonight?_

She looks down at her outfit, and raises an eyebrow. He laughs, and she clarifies on the whiteboard.

 _No, studying_.

Jake frowns quickly, but then he quickly writes, _Not surprised_. She laughs, scrunching her face at him playfully. But she doesn’t know what to write back.

She doesn’t have to worry, because then he’s erasing his joke and holds up a new note.

_Wish you were!_

Amy exhales, and _definitely_ doesn’t know what to say to that. So she writes back nothing, even though she has the strongest urge to write that _I love you_ again.

But before she can get the courage, it’s too late. He’s gotten his coat and he’s out of the room.

Sighing, she flops on her bed, no longer having the desire to study.

And that’s when she knows that she needs to get out of her room. And go to the prom. But first, she needs to write that note.

She goes for her erasable marker, then realizes it would look really weird carrying a whiteboard into prom. What if the message gets erased?

So she reaches for her old sketchpad instead.

+

Amy is not the coolest kid walking into Prom. It doesn’t help that her mom has to drive her because all her friends were already there. But luckily, she looks decent.

The contacts are actually nice on her eyes, so she’s not wearing her “granny glasses.” The dress still fits, because of course it does it’s been less than a day, and the shoes that Gina made her wear are actually pretty comfortable. Plus, her makeup looks nice, from all of Gina’s, Rosa’s, and Sharon’s tips, and her mom did her hair, so it’s gently curled around her face.

Because she’s watched too many teen rom-coms, she’s afraid that as soon as she walks in, everyone will stop and stare at her. But they don’t. She walks in like everyone else.

The prom is in full-swing, considering it’s 9:45, and it’s pretty packed. The first person she recognizes is a chaperone, Mr. Holt. He looks dapper, and he nods at her. She keeps looking around to tamp down her blush.

The first of her friends that she is Gina, dressed in an amazing navy dress, who’s dancing on a guy Amy doesn’t know.

They make eye contact, and Gina sends her an enthusiastic thumbs up. Amy waits for it to crash down, like she does when she’s sarcastic, but it doesn’t. Gina’s hand instead goes and grabs the ass of her dancing partner.

Good for her.

She sees Terry and Sharon dancing next, and they both grin at her. It’s not a slow song playing (it’s 2016, why is LMFAO’s “Party Rock Anthem” playing?) so they head over.

“Wow, Amy, you look amazing!” Sharon greets, wearing a great dark blue dress.

“Thank you, you too!” Amy says over the music, but hopefully not too loud.

“You look great, Ames,” Terry says, grabbing her shoulder, “You doing alright?” She smiles at him

“Dance with your girlfriend, Jeffords,” She smiles at him, “I’m doing great.”

Out of nowhere, Rosa is at her side, wearing an amazing black and purple dress with a slit up the side to the mid-thigh and lace-up boots, and her eyeliner wings are so sharp they could kill a man. She's also carrying two cups.

“Punch? Just spiked it,” Rosa offers. Amy shakes her head, and so do Terry and Sharon. So Rosa downs both the glasses she brought.

“You look good,” Rosa tells Amy, and Amy opens her mouth to speak and Rosa just says, “Say a damn word, and my promise earlier is revoked.”

Amy closes her mouth, still smiling. Rosa rolls her eyes.

“Have you seen Charles?” Amy asks instead, “He told me Genevieve agreed to be his date.”

“I saw them sneak out earlier,” Terry says as the song changes. “C’mon, babe, we can dance to this,” And Sharon and Terry go off.

“Good for them,” Rosa says, eyes scanning the crowd. To Amy, she leans over and says, “Sophia is the one wearing a white dress, two o’clock.”

Amy subtly looks over. Sophia is wearing a ruffly, white dress with gold heels. She’s talking to a girl that looks like a cheerleader and a boy who’s definitely a football player. Not looking at her at all. Phew.

Because Amy feels brave, she says, “Gina’s right, they do look like wedding dresses.”

Rosa snorts, then says, “I haven’t seen Peralta yet.”

Amy tries to keep a poker face, clenching the note that’s in her palm a bit tighter than necessary.

“But I do see a guy with killer facial hair making eyes at me,” Rosa says, making intense eye contact with a Tall-Dark-Handsome-Mysterious guy, who’s basically the Male Rosa. They go to a big school, but she thinks that’s Adrian Pimento, a guy who just transferred to their school. “I’m gonna bone him.” She says definitively.

Amy nods, “Use protection.”

Rosa smiles at her, proud, and punches her shoulder and goes over to the guy. _Good for her_ , Amy thinks to herself as she scans the crowd.

And that’s when she sees Jake.

+

Amy Santiago is very smart. Highly intelligent. But she’s struck stupid and silent when she and Jake lock eyes.

He was talking to a soccer player before they make eye contact, but he looks just as surprised as she feels when they’re just staring at each other. He smiles, and she feels warm as she watches his eyes study her quickly. She goes to meet him when he moves as well. They’re both smiling like idiots as they move through the crowd, but hers falls when she sees Sophia reach for Jake and grab his arm.

Amy stops in the middle of the crowd she was just fighting through. Dammit, how can she compete with her?

She can’t hear what they’re saying, but Sophia goes for Jake’s bowtie, but he grabs her wrists (gently, but firmly, she notices) and makes a “what the hell are you doing?” face at her and goes back to fighting through the crowd for her.

For _Amy_.

They meet in the crowd of gyrating teenage bodies, and the music is loud and bass-heavy and they’re both just staring at each other in awe.

Amy gulps down her nervousness and unfolds the note she had written, in her trademark, red cursive. Except now it’s on a sketchpad.

 _I love you_.

Jake smiles wide, and reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his own folded note. And in his familiar, blue scribble, is the clear:

 _I love you_.

She smiles back at him, and watches as he nervously bites at his lip. Before she knows it, the gap between them is closed by them kissing. Her arms go around his neck, and his hands go to her waist and hold her close.

Right after they pull apart, Jake leans down to whisper in her ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

She pulls back slightly, eyes wide. Jake laughs, almost at her but not maliciously at all, and says, “I just meant to talk, but if you want to-”

She hits his shoulder, because he’s such an idiot.

But she also has the feeling he’s her idiot.

And that works perfectly with her.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this! Thanks for reading.


End file.
